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I feel more refreshed and quickly dress in a pair of yoga pants and an oversized shirt. She leads me to Amy’s suite.
Amy is chatting with friends when Quinn and I arrive. They fall silent and check us out as we walk deeper into the suite, which feels weird.
“Hi, everyone,” I greet cheerfully.
“You guys remember my cousin, Patty,” Quinn says to them. We are greeted with four different variations of a twisted smile.
“Okay then,” Quinn mutters.
“Guess our moms are done and decided to take off,” I note.
“I wonder why,” she utters under her breath and rolls her eyes. “We get to hang with a bunch of puck bunnies.” Given both of our fathers are former famous hockey players, we don’t get the excitement over hockey players. They are just people who are on sports teams for their job.
Amy’s friends help her get into her dress. Her mom is here too, and she gushes over Amy’s dress and emphasizes how amazing it is that her daughter is marrying a guy who will be in the NHL this time next year. Quinn side-eyes me when she hears it. Her words don’t sit well with me either.
The hairdresser gets to work doing my hair. I decide on a half-up half-down style with a braid wrapping around the middle of my head. The hairdresser finishes off the look by adding some loose curls to the hair that flows down my back. I tell the makeup artist I like my makeup light. Quinn hangs around and we chat about life since we can’t talk about anything of importance with her soon to be sister-in-law in the room.
When I’m all done, we walk over to Amy, who is in a sitting area. “Wow, you look stunning,” I gush. She really does. She’s a very pretty girl with dark hair and light eyes.
“You really do look beautiful. We are all very excited to welcome you to the family,” Quinn says.
“Thanks so much.” Amy smiles and she scrunches her face. Her mom goes to light a cigarette and Amy smacks the cigarette out of her hand.
“Not here, Mama, plus it’s bad for the baby,” she scolds, and then she is batting her lashes and rubbing her flat stomach.
“Okay, well, we should really go get our dresses on. You wanted us downstairs by four for pictures, right?” Quinn asks Amy.
“Yes,” Amy replies.
“See you soon,” I say to her, and then my cousin takes me by the hand like we are twelve years old again and pulls me out of the suite.
When we get close to the elevators, Quinn sighs. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
“Maybe your bad feeling is about me seeing Andrew. He didn’t stop staring at me all through breakfast,” I note.
“I saw that too.” Quinn watches me wide-eyed.
“My plan is to drink lots of champagne. I just need to chill out and focus on having a good time with Evan.”
“Just not a really good time,” Quinn reminds.
“Funny,” I return.
When the elevator stops on my floor, I tell Quinn I’ll see her downstairs. Then I head to my room, but what I really want to do is stop by Evan’s room, knock on his door, and maybe drop to my knees and give him a blow job. I even pause halfway down the hall and really consider that plan of action.
It takes everything inside me to continue to my room, but I make it there. I then slip on the bridesmaid dress we all had made in a mad rush. It’s a cream satin material that hits my ankles and hugs my body. I pair it with a white pump sandal.
My phone buzzes and I see I have a message from Evan.
Evan:Are you ready? I can come by your room.
Me:Yes, all ready.
I go to the bathroom and apply some deodorant and fix my lipstick. The makeup artist gave me a smoky eye, even though I asked for something light, but it does make my blue eyes pop.
When the knock comes, my heart skips a beat and excitement bubbles inside me.
I open the door and Evan whistles. “Damn, woman, you look stunning.” His gaze eats me up from top to bottom but as I take him in, my breath hitches. He’s wearing a tuxedo and it fits him like a glove. He looks like an Adonis. A man among men. He’s gorgeous with his hair slicked back, a five o’clock shadow, and brown eyes that could melt an iceberg.
